Eyes Of The Past
by SlyTwiHunter
Summary: One-Shot And now here she was, staring into the silver eyes she'd hoped and prayed she would never have to stare into again. HG/DM Possessive!Draco


**A/N: Hello to all! It's probably not hard to tell that this is my first time posting a story on FanFiction, and I'm embarrassingly nervous! I wrote this one-shot sometime before New Years (Happy New Year!), and I never intended for anyone bar myself to see it. But, here I am. I know these notes can be annoying, so I will leave you be! But, if you are interested in what I plan on doing here on , then I hope to post more one-shots, and hopefully some longer, multi-chapter fics. I will keep at it! I would also greatly appreciate it if you guys tell me what you think of my writing, I take any suggestions in stride! Happy reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, all rights go to J.K Rowling. I am simply** _ **borrowing**_ **a few of her little creations. Oh yeah, I'm not making any profit out of this... I wish.**

The melodic sounds of _Carter Burwell,_ pulsed from the grand piano set on the raised stage, and filled the spacious hall. The pianist's fingers danced across the monochrome keys, completely immersed in his playing.

No one payed any notice to him in turn, well, no one bar one Hermione Granger.

The annual Ministry Gala was in session, and Hermionewished she could've been anywhere else other than here.

She sat at one of the many circular tables scattered around. Cloths the colour of cream draped across each surface, flowing to the ground.

In the middle of the room, the vinyl wood floorheld centre stage, left empty for the waltzing couples.

Bright lights too, were stationed around the area, adding to the breathtaking scenery further than Hermione could've imagined possible.

As her eyes followed the path of the musician's playing digits, her mind flowed back to the past, remembering how she got to where she was today. She wished she could be able to say it was all smooth sailing, sweet Merlin, how she wished!

But the truth, the great ugly truth, was that it was nothing like anything she could've prepared for.

Mistreated, abused, ignored, violated, Hermione had been many negative things in her 6 and 20 years, but never _,_ had she been afraid. Not like she was now.

 _"I'll come back for you, no matter where you hide, no matter what you do to conceal yourself from me, I will find you - always."_

 _Hermione shivered at the intensity of his words. As much as she hated to admit it, she believed him. She knew that he wouldn't giver her up this easily. Not after everything he had done to get her in his grasp, he wouldn't let her slip through his fingers like sand. But he didn't need to know that she knew that._

 _Hermione's eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously, "Is that a threat?" she spat._

 _He chuckled low, shaking his head amusedly. Strands of his almost translucent hair fell across his eyes. He took two short steps towards her, closing the small space between them, Hermione willed her body to move, but she was frozen in fear._

 _His scent overwhelmed her with his proximity. It was too much, -_ he _was too much. He brought his pale hand up to cup her cheek. She was torn; half of her wanted to lean into his soft touch, surrender herself to him, and the other half persuaded her to push him away. It was a losing battle, and she knew that he could see her battling emotions reflected in her eyes. He always could._

 _His thumb traced her bottom lip before his fingertips ghosted across her cheek, leaving a trail of fire. His feather-light touches raised contradicting goosebumps from head-to-toe across her skin. Her eyes closed at the sensation, and she felt him lower his head to her ear._

 _"Not a threat, but a promise, my love," he breathed into her ear, and placed a chaste, but burning kiss under her jaw, before she felt him back away. Her eyes opened and she gasped._

 _He was gone._

His silky voice still rung through her head to this day. She hated this feeling, a feeling of a false sense of security. It had been 3 years since he disappeared, since she left that ghastly manor, and since she had heard from Dra - _him-_ last.

But still, a nagging part of her mind knew that he wasn't gone, he hadn't finished messing with her just yet. The night she had left him was a night she would never forget, she was pretty sure it had burned into her memory.

She recalled seeing the -once grand- manor burning, the place she had lived in with him since school had finished. The authorities publicly said he had died in the fire, but she knew that he had made it unscathed.

By Godric, he probably wanted it to be that way. He wasn't someone to go quietly, and, if she knew him like she thought she did, he had been stewing up a plan to take her back all these years.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the keys of the piano, and scanned her eyes across the room while sipping at her butterbeer.

She looked over the people drowning their sorrows at the front bar with the courtesy Firewhiskey, passed the rowdy groups laughing at the tables, followed the figures of the many witches and wizards twirling around the dance floor…

It was then, that she found her golden gaze lockedin his molten silver eyesfrom across the hall, and when he saw that he had her attention, a triumphant smirk graced his light-pink lips.

Hermione froze in her seat, her glass stilled as it hovered above her lap.

He was leaning casually against one of the many pillars, hands in the pockets of his dress robes, and his legs crossed at his ankles.

He was just as she remembered him; dominating stance, arrogant air, appallingly fit physique, and an aristocratic set to hispale features.

She was too shocked to move, her mind was screaming for her to run, to get as far away from _here_ and _him_ as possible. But, alas, her body wasn't running quite as fast as her mile-a-minute mind right this very moment.

Hastily grabbing her purse and downing her drink, she stood from her cushioned seat, and began to worm her way through the oblivious crowd. Her wobbling, heeled feet, carried her as fast as they could go to the entrance room.

Her breathing was heavy and ragged, she was too afraid to turn around, she knew he would be hot on her heels.

Tears stung the back of her eyes, she wasn't ready for him to be back in her life yet, she wanted, no - _needed-_ more time to focus on herself.

She didn't want to be cooped up in another God forsaken manor with only him for company. She was becoming a successful businesswoman, damnit!

Finally, the golden front doors came into her sight, and she picked up her pace, carelessly pushing past people in her way, ignores their cries of surprise and protest.

When an ornate handle was in her reach, she grabbed at it with her shaking hand. The door clicked unlocked, and she swung it open.

The cool London air, swirled around her body, as she came to a stop on the entrance steps. She sighed and shut her eyes in relief. It was all okay, she was out here, he was in there, she was fine.

In a few moments, once her head was clear, she would just apparate back to her flat in Diagonal Alley.

All. Would. Be. Fine.

If Hermione had been thinking rationally, and listening out, she would've realised that the door clicked shut too late to have only let through _just_ her.

If she had only listened the crisp, _clack,_ sounds of tailored shoes hitting the concrete behind her, she maybe could've escaped.

Instead, she was unaware that a second body had slinked outside after herself, and was watching her with slowly darkening eyes from his position close behind her.

So, when a warm breath stirred the air around the back of her neck, she was caught completely by surprise.

"I told you I'd find you," a silken voice whispered into her ear. Soft fingers encircled her wrist and turned her around to face their way.

And now here she was, staring into the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy she'd hoped and prayed she would never have to stare into again.


End file.
